


All the Counsel

by tastewithouttalent



Series: Nothing in the World [8]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Coffee Shops, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Phone Calls & Telephones, Relationship Advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 22:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11998920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: "'I want to know how you knew you were in love,' Kasuka repeats, without so much as batting an eye at Shizuo’s evident lack of comprehension." Shizuo finds himself advising his brother on an unexpected topic.





	All the Counsel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashanizer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashanizer/gifts).



“It’s good to see you,” Shizuo says as Kasuka returns from ordering a drink and pulls out a chair along the counter that runs across the front window of the shop. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” There’s a few passers-by on the other side of the glass, and a curious glance or two in Kasuka’s direction, but he doesn’t seem aware of them at all, either to offer a smile or to duck and hide his increasingly-recognizable face.

“Yeah,” is all he offers instead, the statement so entirely flat that it would sound like sarcasm were it anyone else saying the words. As it is Shizuo is reasonably sure it’s sincerity in Kasuka’s tone, even if he’s looking down at his phone as he turns the ringer to silent before setting it against the counter. “I needed to talk to you about something.”

Shizuo blinks. “You do?” There’s a call from the front counter, his name pitched loud to carry through the shop; Shizuo looks back at once, pushing away from the counter in front of him as he gets to his feet. “Sorry, one sec.”

“Yeah,” Kasuka says, as unruffled by this interruption as by Shizuo’s gratitude, and he reaches for his phone again as Shizuo goes to the front to get his drink. The cup is set at the edge of the counter waiting to be picked up; he’s actually closing his hand around it when the girl on the other side of the bar leans in suddenly, tipping forward far enough to actually catch Shizuo’s attention even before she hisses “ _Hey!_ ” in an undertone that is meant to sound secretive and carries with all the force of a hiss. Shizuo grimaces and pulls the drink in towards himself, ready to pretend to not hear her and turn aside again, but she reaches out to grab at his sleeve and that means he has to stop, if he’s not going to physically force himself free of her hold. “Wait!”

“What,” Shizuo says, not making any attempt to soften the word into an actual question, not when he knows what’s coming next.

“That guy you came in with,” the girl hisses, still holding onto Shizuo’s sleeve but with her head turned to stare at Kasuka sitting by the window. “That’s not Hanejima Yuuhei, is it?”

Shizuo pulls against the girl’s hold, gently at first and then with ever-increasing strength, until finally the force is enough to bring her attention back up to his face. “He’s my brother,” he says shortly, and then jerks his arm sideways and free. “My brother Kasuka.”

“Oh,” the girl says, deflating for a moment; but then she’s leaning back over the counter again, her eyes lighting up as she looks up at Shizuo like they’re sharing a secret. “He looks just like Hanejima Yuuhei, don’t you think?”

“Dunno,” Shizuo says, and then he turns his back on the conversation entirely, walking away even as the girl hisses at him to return.

Kasuka hasn’t looked up when Shizuo sits down next to him; he’s gazing at the screen of his phone, reading the text of a message, but he puts it aside as soon as Shizuo pulls his chair back with somewhat more force than necessary and moves to sit heavily on it. “Hey.”

“The girl at the front recognized you,” Shizuo tells him. “Shouldn’t you be…” he waves a hand generally to take in the whole of Kasuka’s perfectly ordinary appearance. “...In disguise, or something?”

Kasuka looks down. “Why?” he asks, sounding like he’s truly curious about the answer to the question.

“So you don’t get seen hanging out with a delinquent like me,” Shizuo tells him, feeling a little like he’s fighting an uphill battle against Kasuka’s lack of peripheral awareness. “What if people find out I’m your brother?”

Kasuka shrugs. “You _are_ my brother,” he says. “Why does it matter?”

Shizuo grimaces and pulls his milkshake in towards him. “I’m involved in…” he waves his hand again. “...A lot of things.”

“Like the gang negotiations,” Kasuka says with absolute calm. “Those sound exciting.”

Shizuo chokes on the mouthful of liquid he was trying to swallow. “You _know_ about those?” he asks, turning to stare at Kasuka. “Izaya said he wasn’t going to tell you about that.”

“He didn’t,” Kasuka says, still watching Shizuo with no indication of discomfort either in the topic at hand or in his brother’s reaction. “It’s just on the internet. You’re pretty famous yourself.” He pauses to consider this statement for a moment. “Well, you and Izaya are. Some of the sites say that you two are one of the tourist attractions of the city.”

Shizuo stares at Kasuka, milkshake forgotten. “You’re kidding.”

Kasuka shakes his head. “Lots of people are interested,” he says. “My manager said that you two could probably do a photobook together, if you wanted.”

“ _No_ ,” Shizuo groans. “No _way_.”

“That’s what I told her you’d say,” Kasuka says, still without any indication of discomfort anywhere in his face. “I’ll tell her I told you directly and you don’t want to do it.”

“ _Definitely_ not,” Shizuo reiterates. “What is wrong with people?” Kasuka shrugs silent non-answer to Shizuo’s question, and Shizuo turns back to scowl at his milkshake and make another attempt at a mouthful of it. This goes much more smoothly than the first, and by the time Shizuo is working on a third he feels far calmer than he did a moment before. “Did you just want to ask me about that? Is that why you wanted to meet me?”

“Oh no,” Kasuka says without any hesitation. “That was just something to mention if it came up. I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

Shizuo looks sideways at Kasuka, feeling a vague sense of foreboding. There’s nothing at all alarming in the other’s expression; then again, there’s never anything particularly alarming in Kasuka’s expression. Shizuo heaves a sigh and reflects that he’s probably spending too much time with Izaya, to be so paranoid about the motivations of everyone around him. “What about?”

“It’s kind of about Izaya too,” Kasuka says, as the girl from behind the counter edges closer with a smile and Kasuka’s drink in hand. “How did you know you were in love?”

Shizuo nearly spits out his milkshake. It’s not that it’s a completely outrageous question; if it were coming from Shinra, or his mother, or even from Kadota he thinks it would be far less startling. It’s just that Kasuka has never shown the least interest in any kind of romance, Shizuo’s or otherwise, and when delivered with his usual expressionless tone the question is enough to scatter all Shizuo’s thoughts into complete disarray. He stares at Kasuka for a moment, waiting for coherency to come back into his thoughts while Kasuka accepts his drink with a polite “Thank you” that entirely disregards the batted eyelashes and lip-biting the girl is giving him; when Kasuka turns back to Shizuo the girl lingers for a moment, hesitating like she’s thinking about trying something else before dropping her flirtatious facade and turning away to huff back to the other side of the counter. Kasuka takes a sip of his coffee, carefully to keep from burning himself, before leaning in to set the cup down against the counter in front of them with more attention than he gave to the girl’s advances. He looks utterly unperturbed, like he’s just passing the time waiting for Shizuo’s response; it’s only once he’s set the cup down that he looks back up to turn his attention towards his brother.

Shizuo blinks hard, trying to make sense as much of the source of the question as of the question itself before he gives up entirely on trying to gain traction on the present conversation. “What?”

“I want to know how you knew you were in love,” Kasuka repeats, without so much as batting an eye at Shizuo’s evident lack of comprehension. “With Izaya” as if Shizuo needs clarification on that particular detail. “You’ve been in love for years, but how did you know when it wasn’t just friendship?”

Shizuo can feel his face burning to crimson, can feel his cheeks glowing with color he can’t even try to hold back. “Uh.” He closes his mouth and swallows with deliberate intent as he looks down and tries to talk himself back into calm. It’s not _that_ shocking of a question, not really; the process of coming out to his family was more a matter of telling everyone what they already knew, it shouldn’t be this embarrassing to acknowledge the fact that he is, in fact, in love with the man he’s been living with for over a year. “It was that Christmas when I--”

“That’s not what I mean,” Kasuka says over him, still sounding so perfectly calm there’s not even any aggression to the words, just direct clarification. Shizuo looks up from his milkshake, his face still hot with self-consciousness, but Kasuka is looking into his cup as he carefully brings it to his mouth for another sip. “Not when you told each other, that was years after you were in love.”

Shizuo presses his lips tight together against the surge of embarrassment that hits him. “If you know so much, what do you even want to hear from me?”

“Don’t get mad,” Kasuka says without so much as looking up from his attention on the cup in his hands. “You know you were.” Shizuo rocks back in his seat, patently unable to deny this fact, and Kasuka reaches out to set his cup down again with deliberate care. “I want to know _how_ you knew. Was it when you started working as his bodyguard? When you graduated? When he first came over for Christmas?”

Shizuo shuts his eyes. It’s not that he doesn’t have the answer to Kasuka’s question; it’s that the memory is crystal clear, the details as perfectly untarnished as if it just happened, as if his years of reliving it in the back of his mind have kept it pristine and intact over all the months of time that have passed since that first interaction. “No,” he says, and his voice is rough in his throat, embarrassment straining hard against his vocal chords. He leans forward over the counter and lifts a hand to half-cover his face. “It was before that.”

“Oh,” Kasuka says. “That’s good.” He takes another slow sip of his drink. “I wondered if you just didn’t realize you were in love for a while.”

“No,” Shizuo says. “I knew since--” before he cuts himself off, sudden understanding pulling his head up so he can stare shock at Kasuka next to him instead of hiding the flush all across his cheeks. “Did _you_ know?”

Kasuka ducks his head into a nod. “Yeah,” he says, without any visible trace of self-consciousness at this admission.

“For how _long_?”

Kasuka frowns consideration into his cup. “I’m not sure,” he says. “I think I knew when you decided to bleach your hair.”

Shizuo gusts the full weight of an exhale from his chest. “That long?” He blinks as a fresh idea occurs to him. “Did Mom know?”

“I don’t know,” Kasuka says. “I think so. She never seemed very surprised when you brought him over.” He takes another sip from his cup. “You knew before then, though, right?”

Shizuo looks back down to his milkshake and clears his throat roughly. “Yeah,” he says, and presses both hands flush against the condensation-cold shape. The chill soothes some of the heat in his veins, even if it’s not enough to unravel his self-consciousness. “I figured it out pretty fast.”

“When?” Kasuka asks.

Shizuo takes a deep breath, filling the whole of his chest with as much air as he can manage; and then he lets it go at once, gusting a heavy exhale as he resigns himself to this conversation. “You remember that first New Year’s? When Izaya and his sisters came over?”

“Yeah,” Kasuka says. “I fell asleep on the kotatsu.”

“Right,” Shizuo says, although in actual fact he doesn’t remember much of the details of that night, can barely remember anything except Izaya lifting his head to blink up at him, the feel of the new year settling into place around them like a curtain to separate the two of them from the world for a few brief seconds of time. “Sure.” He brings his drink to his mouth and takes a long swallow of his milkshake. “It was when I invited him over to spend that night with us.”

Kasuka makes a soft sound, something of surprise and mostly polite interest. “It was that fast?”

Shizuo shuts his eyes and leans forward, lifting his elbow to brace at the counter so he can press his cool palm against his overheated forehead. “Yeah.” He can remember the moment with perfect clarity: Izaya’s head coming up, his eyes wide with surprise and his mouth soft with shock, like he had never before considered the possibility that Shizuo might want to spend time with him, might crave his company and miss him in his absence, might actually enjoy the easy banter and friendly company they provide for each other. Even thinking about it Shizuo can call up the feel of the certainty in his chest, the pang of almost-hurt as if he had been run through by an invisible blade tying him irrevocably to this person, to this moment, to this breathless connection enough to unground all the stability in his life and recast it to fit within the delicate curve of Izaya’s open hands. It’s strange to look back on, to remember the breathless fragility that seems so childlike, now, so much a product of his age and inexperience, and yet to have that bone-deep connection still be the same, to know that he was right, after all, in identifying that first surge of infatuation as the love it was.

“How did you know?” Kasuka’s voice is calm enough to pull Shizuo back into himself, to urge him up out of the haze of memory and affection alike and into the present moment. He’s watching Shizuo when the other looks sideways at him, his attention steady and gaze clear as he watches his brother with no sign of even secondhand embarrassment at the conversational topic. “How did you know what you were feeling was love?”

Shizuo frowns, his attention sliding up and away from Kasuka for a moment while he turns this question over. “I’m not sure,” he finally admits. “I just did.”

“Was it all at once? Did you have to think about it?”

“No,” Shizuo says. He braces his chin against the support of his hand and fixes his stare on the edge of the window in front of them, although he’s not seeing the frame any more than he’s seeing the people walking past on the sidewalk outside. “It was just like…” He pauses, struggling through the inadequacy of words to capture the moment of gravity shifting, of his heart skidding, of concern and affection and tenderness all coming together into a single unmistakeable whole.

“He was just standing there,” Shizuo says, retreating to the fundamental details in an effort to ground himself against some structure of reality, against something that might make sense to an outside observer. “He came over without a jacket in the cold, and I was so worried about him, that he had just been wandering around in the middle of winter and that he was going to freeze to death or something because he wasn’t thinking about himself.” He brings his milkshake to his mouth to take another swallow. “And he was talking about how his parents were gone, and how he and the twins had been all alone on Christmas, so I invited him over for New Year’s.”

Kasuka hums a sound. “Why?”

Shizuo frowns. “I don’t know,” he says. “It made sense at the time.” He takes another swallow of his milkshake and clears his throat. “He looked up at me for a minute, just staring like he had--like no one had ever invited him anywhere before, like no one had ever asked for his company in anything. And then he…” Shizuo’s throat closes up, his chest tightens. For a moment he can’t take a breath at all, can’t find the words; his face is going hot with self-consciousness but that’s not what’s stalling him to silence, not what’s holding his tongue back from coherency. He shuts his eyes and pushes his hand up over his face, rumpling through his hair like that will be enough to ground him.

“He smiled at me,” Shizuo says against the inside of his wrist. “ _Really_ smiled, without trying to lie or tease or anything like that. It was like I had made him actually happy for the first time in his life and I just…” He lifts his hand from his hair and waves his fingers through the air, trying to sweep aside the necessarily cliché conclusion before he’s even put words to it. “I wanted to make him always look like that.”

There’s a beat of silence. Shizuo keeps his head ducked down, keeps his gaze fixed on the drink in front of him as a far better alternative than looking up to see whatever expression Kasuka is turning on him after that spectacularly embarrassing admission. The quiet goes long, peace made tense and strained by the thud of Shizuo’s own heart, and finally Shizuo takes a breath and speaks again, his words worn rough on the self-consciousness at his lips. “That sounds really stupid, doesn’t it?”

“No,” Kasuka says, with such perfect calm that it’s enough to pull Shizuo’s gaze up from his fixed attention at the cuff of his sleeve and sideways to look at his brother. Kasuka has his hands pressing against the sides of his cup to brace it in place but he’s not looking at the beverage any more than he’s looking at Shizuo; he’s gazing straight ahead, his eyes focused on something far on the other side of the window before them, like he’s just staring idly at some distant point while his attention runs somewhere entirely different. “You fell in love.” He brings his cup to his mouth to take a careful sip before he continues. “I think you’re probably allowed to be in love however you feel like.”

Shizuo snorts a laugh. “I didn’t really feel like it,” he admits. “It just happened.” He ducks his head down over his milkshake again, a smile still pulling at his lips. “Thanks, though.”

“Yeah.” Kasuka goes silent for a moment; a calmer quiet, this time, something with space and breadth enough for Shizuo’s heart to ease its self-conscious rush, enough for Shizuo to take a breath and sigh an exhale and appreciate the sweet of his milkshake. He feels like he’s just come through some enormous ordeal and hasn’t yet entirely relaxed into the relief that comes afterward, like he’s still trembling with the adrenaline of a fight minutes before. He sets his shoulders to steadiness, braces himself to calm, and it’s just as he’s taking a breath to unwind the lingering knots of strain that Kasuka says “I met a girl,” as calmly as if he’s saying he thinks it’ll rain later that day.

There’s nothing inherent in the statement that should tip Shizuo off. It’s fairly mundane; Kasuka meets new people all the time, after all. His newest acquaintance is still making eyes at him from the other side of the shop counter. But maybe it’s the framing of the conversation preceding it, or the way Kasuka offers the words with something almost like interest; or maybe it’s just that Kasuka is, after all, Shizuo’s brother, and in the end Shizuo knows him well enough to know that Kasuka never says anything unimportant. Whatever the reason, it’s enough to prickle suspicion across Shizuo’s skin and bring his focus snapping back into place on the conversation at hand even before he looks over and sees the way Kasuka _isn’t_ looking at him, and suspicion forms into certainty in the span of a breath.

“ _Oh_ ,” Shizuo blurts. “Is that why you--” and then he closes his mouth hard on the too-direct question, holding the sound back behind his lips while he struggles to find a better way to get to what he wants to ask. He doesn’t want to embarrass Kasuka, doesn’t want to scare him off this subject; but the possibility of his brother being interested in someone is such a complete novelty that Shizuo is torn between shock and intense curiosity at once. He stares at Kasuka for a moment, working through different questions in his head; and finally he opens his mouth and manages, “How did you meet?” with an attempt at a casual tone he can feel failing even as he makes the effort.

Kasuka takes a breath. “I was on set,” he says, his voice cool and calm, without any of the self-conscious stress Shizuo might expect from him on such an unfamiliar subject. “We were filming the last scene of the day when I saw her at the edge of the shot, just outside the range of the cameras.” He leans back in his chair, turning the cup in his hands as he speaks. “I don’t know what it is that drew my gaze to her but I couldn’t look away once our eyes met. It’s like she was waiting for me to see her, like she had been standing there expecting my attention the whole time.”

He brings his cup to his lips and takes a deliberate sip. “The director was lifting his arm for the end of the shot, about to call it for the day, when she suddenly bolted forward, faster than I’d ever seen anyone move before. She grabbed my arm with an unshakeable grip, and leaned in close towards me. The director was shouting about the ruined shot, the set was in an uproar, but all I could hear was her.”

Kasuka tips his head back, fixes his gaze on the ceiling like he’s contemplating the framework of the support beams overhead. When he speaks his voice is clear and carrying, as certain as if he’s delivering a line from the platform of a stage or to the lens of a camera. “‘The world isn’t what you think it is.’” Shizuo’s forehead creases, his mouth tenses on a frown, but Kasuka doesn’t look over at him; he’s still watching the ceiling, still gazing up at the white overhead as he continues. “I tried to ask her what she meant, but she just said, ‘There is no time.’ It was then that her hold on my arm tightened, and the back of her jacket burst open in a spray of feathers, and she--”

“Wait,” Shizuo says, and lifts up a hand to cut off the flow of Kasuka’s words. Kasuka stops immediately and turns his head to blink attention at Shizuo’s frown of focus. “What are you _talking_ about?”

“I’m telling a story,” Kasuka says at once. “About falling in love at first sight.”

Shizuo frowns. “Not a _real_ story, though.”

“No,” Kasuka says. “This is from the light novel series they’re adapting into a live-action show later this year. Some of the dialogue has been updated for the new script. Did you find it compelling?”

“What?” Shizuo says. “No. That doesn’t matter.” He sets his elbow down against the counter and leans in to underscore his point with the tip of his shoulders. “I don’t want a story, I want to know about this girl you met.”

Kasuka gazes levelly at him. “It’s a much less interesting story.”

Shizuo shuts his eyes and takes a breath. “I don’t care,” he says, with as much calm as he can possibly muster for the statement, and then he opens his eyes to meet Kasuka’s gaze again. “I want to know what actually happened.”

“Okay,” Kasuka says, as unperturbed by this as anything else. “She’s my makeup artist. We worked together on another movie a few months ago and now she’s doing my makeup again for the sequel we’re putting together.” He takes a sip of his drink without any discernible discomfort. “I asked her out for coffee a few weeks ago and we’ve been going out together most nights since.” He considers his drink, gazing into the liquid in his cup with idle interest. “I think I’m going to invite her home to meet the family soon.”

Shizuo gapes at him, feeling a little like Kasuka has just dragged all his standard assumptions about his brother right out from under him without even blinking. “Just like that?”

“It’s not a very good story,” Kasuka says, sounding more thoughtful than defensive. “It’d be better with a car chase and an unexpected rescue during the first meeting.”

Shizuo coughs a laugh. “It’s fine,” he says. “Everything doesn’t have to be like a movie to be interesting.”

Kasuka tips his head to consider him. “You’re involved in gang fights as the bodyguard to a famous informant who knows everything that goes on in the city.”

Shizuo grimaces. “That’s Izaya’s fault,” he says. “I’d be happy with a more peaceful life, believe me.”

Kasuka hums consideration. “You seem pretty happy the way things are.”

Shizuo opens his mouth to protest; and then closes it again, and looks back down to the milkshake in his hands. His fingers flex against the sides of the cup; too-much strength, too-much power, but his knuckles aren’t bruised like they used to be, his skin is smooth and unmarked by the cuts and scrapes that used to come from too many sources for Shizuo to even know which had caused the damage. His clothes are pristine, his shoulders are relaxed; whatever constant stress he carried with him in elementary school has eased, now, unravelled itself into calm sometime over the intervening years without him even realizing the change had happened. He blinks down at his milkshake, surprised to find such easy calm, to find peace so entirely within his grasp; and then he huffs a laugh, and lifts his shoulder into a shrug.

“I guess so,” he says, and punctuates with a swallow of his drink. The vanilla is sweet against his tongue, the aftertaste smooth and rich in the back of his throat; he sets the cup down against the counter and turns his head to look at Kasuka next to him again. “So are you in love with this girl?”

Kasuka’s shrug echoes Shizuo’s own. “I’m not sure,” he says, without any hint of even minimal self-consciousness at this admission. “I don’t know how to tell. That’s why I wanted to talk to you about it.”

Shizuo huffs a laugh. “I appreciate your confidence in me,” he says, and means it. “Sorry I’m not more helpful. Things were kind of weird for me and Izaya.”

Kasuka nods. “I know,” he says; and then, before Shizuo can even decide whether to be offended by this offhand statement, “Oh,” as Kasuka’s phone lights up to hum against the counter in front of them. “That’s my manager.” Kasuka sets his cup down on the counter and reaches for his phone. “I’ll be right back. Sorry.” Shizuo waves off the apology and turns back to appreciating his own drink while Kasuka is stepping towards the door of the shop and saying “Hey,” as he lifts his phone to his ear. He pulls the door open and steps out onto the sidewalk; and it’s just as the door swings shut to block out the sound of his conversation that there’s the chime of music from Shizuo’s pocket to speak to an incoming call of his own. Shizuo knows that unique ringtone without needing to see the name that goes with it; he reaches for his phone without looking, flipping it open and lifting to his ear as his shoulders tense on a flicker of concern, on the threat of worry that always comes with an unexpected call from this source. “Izaya?”

 _“Did you hear the latest gossip?”_ Izaya’s voice asks without bothering with anything so mundane as a greeting or acknowledgment of Shizuo’s presence on the other end of the line.

“No,” Shizuo says. “I don’t care about gossip.” Izaya sounds fine, amused more than upset, but just to be sure: “Are you okay?”

 _“It’s remarkably relevant to your interests,”_ Izaya continues, his tone lilting over pleasure in that way it always does when he has some tidbit of information to withhold. _“I thought you’d want to hear right away.”_

Shizuo huffs a sigh. “Izaya,” he says again. “Are you okay? Do you need me there?”

 _“I always need you, senpai,”_ Izaya purrs. Shizuo growls the start of frustration; Izaya laughs bright against the receiver. _“I’m not in imminent danger, if that’s what you mean. I’m in bed right where you left me.”_

“Good,” Shizuo says. “Stay there, I don’t want you getting into trouble until I’m home.”

 _“You should have tied me up if you wanted me to stay in bed,”_ Izaya tells him. Shizuo rolls his eyes but doesn’t try to offer any verbal protest to this; his smile is pulling too hard at the corner of his mouth for him to trust himself to put on the illusion of frustration. _“Seriously, though, I think you’ll be interested in this.”_

“Fine,” Shizuo says, and reaches for his milkshake again. “What is it?”

Izaya clears his throat like he’s preparing to read a speech; when he speaks he’s dropped into a clear tone, reminiscent of nothing so much as Kasuka’s earlier recitation of the plot device in his upcoming film. _“‘Up-and-coming star Hanejima Yuuhei may be off the market! The young actor was glimpsed locked in a passionate embrace with a woman in front of his apartment complex late last night; sources say the two had just returned from a dinner out and that she has been a regular visitor. She has been identified as the popular idol Hijiribe Ruri; the two have worked together on Hanejima’s films in the past. Sad though it is to lose two such popular stars at once, perhaps we can hope to benefit from a photobook or a shared magazine shoot?’ And it goes on,”_ Izaya says, his voice dropping abruptly back to his usual tone over the last words. _“Exciting, isn’t it?”_

Shizuo grins. “Yeah,” he agrees. “But I knew already.”

 _“What?”_ Izaya says. _“This is breaking news, Shizuo, this article hasn’t even been published yet.”_ He hisses a put-upon gasp, his voice skipping up into feigned hurt. _“Senpai, are you cheating on me with another informant?”_

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shizuo tells him, and Izaya’s assumed outrage dissolves into a huff of a laugh. “I’m out with Kasuka right now.”

 _“Ah,”_ Izaya says. _“Direct from the source, I see. Well, I suppose I can’t argue with that.”_

“It hasn’t stopped you before,” Shizuo says, aware that he sounds helplessly fond and not making even a token attempt to restrain the sound.

Izaya’s laugh is bright even over the effect of the phone line. _“You know me too well.”_

“Yeah.” On the other side of the window Kasuka is nodding, ducking his head into what is clearly a farewell. “Kasuka’s coming back in, I’ll see you when I get home.”

 _“Ask him about his girlfriend,”_ Izaya suggests.

Shizuo sighs. “I’m not going to interrogate him for you.”

 _“And hurry up,”_ Izaya tells him without missing a beat. _“I’m bored without you here.”_

“I will,” Shizuo promises. Kasuka is coming back into the shop, looking down at his phone as he reaches for the doorhandle; Shizuo looks away and back out the window in front of him, gazing out at the city street without really seeing it. “Izaya.”

_“Senpai.”_

Shizuo can feel his mouth tug on a smile, can feel his chest ache with affection he doesn’t try to control. “I love you.”

There’s a breath of silence, a moment of surprising quiet from the other end of the phone. Shizuo can hear Izaya take a breath against the receiver as clearly as if he can see the other bracing himself to speak. _“I love you too, Shizuo.”_ The lilt is gone, the teasing stripped away as if it was never there at all; Izaya’s voice is soft, almost a whisper against the other end of the line.

Shizuo clears his throat. “I’ll be home soon.”

 _“Okay,”_ Izaya says, still in that oddly gentle tone. _“See you.”_

“Bye,” Shizuo says, and pulls his phone away to hang up just as Kasuka draws his chair out to rejoin him.

“Sorry,” Kasuka says, sounding more polite than sincere. He reaches for his drink again. “They’re changing my shooting schedule for tonight.”

Shizuo shakes his head. “No problem,” he says; and then he clears his throat and tips his head to give Kasuka his full attention. “Is it for the movie the two of you are working on together?”

Kasuka ducks his head. “Yeah,” he says, and takes a sip of his drink. “I’ll be seeing her there.” Shizuo watches his brother for a moment, feeling his chest go tight on affection and happiness in equal parts; and then he looks back down to his own drink to take another sip of his milkshake.

He wonders if Kasuka realizes how much of a giveaway the smile tugging at the corner of the other’s mouth is for his as-yet-unnamed feelings.


End file.
